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I scan the room, taking in the tight security measures in place for the priceless gem that’s scheduled to be unveiled later this evening. The Rose Star is 32 carats of flawless pink diamond. One of barely a handful of stones of its quality.
And I’ve come to steal it.
Guards in tailored suits patrol the perimeter, their eyes sharp and focused. Subtly positioned cameras track every movement. This won’t be easy, but then again, nothing worth having ever is.
I mingle with the crowd, laughing at their inane jokes and feigning interest in their trivial pursuits, but my mind races with plans, calculating risks and contingencies. I know this world inside and out, and I use that knowledge to my advantage.
“Scarlett, darling!” A woman draped in pearls approaches me, her perfect smile held together by Botox and practiced charm. “How simply divine to see you here!”
“Likewise, darling,” I reply, leaning in for an air kiss. I barely remember her name, but it doesn’t matter; she’s just another pawn in this dangerous game.
“Have you seen the Star yet?” she asks, a gleam in her eye as she gestures toward a heavily guarded door. “It’s absolutely breathtaking.”
“Is it now?” My heart skips a beat, adrenaline surging through my veins. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months, studying blueprints and memorizing guard routines. And now, it’s finally within reach.
“Of course, you simply must see it,” she insists, clearly eager to bask in the glow of my admiration. Little does she know that I’m not here to gush over a gemstone. I’m here to take it.
“I can’t wait,” I respond, faking excitement. “The unveiling is going to be such a thrill!”
As the woman flutters off to her next conversation, I take a sip of champagne and continue to scope out the room, planning my next move. The diamond may be locked away for now, but with my skills and determination, it won’t be for long.
Minutes tick by like hours as I circle the perimeter of the lavish ballroom, observing the guests as they mingle and sip their champagne. My eyes narrow in on the velvet-curtained door at the far end of the room. It’s guarded by two burly security personnel – a challenge, but not an insurmountable one.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, slipping past a group of chattering socialites. They don’t even notice my presence as I weave through the crowd, inching closer to my target.
As I approach the door, I feign interest in a nearby painting to study the guards more closely. They never move from their post, their eyes unwavering as they scan the crowd for any potential threats. I know their type – highly trained, disciplined. I can’t let my guard down for a second.
“Quite a masterpiece, isn’t it?” a man beside me comments, nodding toward the painting.
“Indeed,” I reply, barely glancing his way. “But I’m more interested in what’s behind that door.”
“Ah, the diamond.” He chuckles, knowing exactly what I meant. “You’ll have to wait your turn like everyone else.”
“Of course,” I say, coloring my voice with disappointment. But waiting isn’t part of my plan.
It’s almost time.
I make my way to the ladies’ restroom, locking myself in a stall. Carefully, I remove my specialized lock-picking tools from a hidden compartment in my clutch. It’s what sets me apart from the amateurs – a gift from my father. Every piece has been handcrafted and customized by a specialist in the industry to suit my needs. It’s one-of-a-kind; my pride and joy – a small, engraved “S” marks the handle of each. I check that everything is in place, and then slide it into the top of the purse for easy access when I need it.
My heart begins to race as I ready myself for the task ahead.
“Focus, Scarlett,” I whisper to myself, steadying my breath. This is hardly my first heist, but the stakes feel higher than ever. There’s a private buyer for this rock who’ll pay me enough to set me up for life. A life that will allow me to retire from this business.
Failure isn’t an option.
I take a few deep breaths and slip back into the ballroom, using the cover of the crowd to approach the door once more. Timing is everything.
“Ms. Jones!” a familiar voice snares my attention just as I’m about to spring into action.
Shit.
It’s Carl, a man I’ve been working with on this job. He isn’t supposed to be here tonight.
“Carl,” I hiss, pulling him aside. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Change of plans,” he explains, his voice tense. “Tony’s been compromised. We need to move. Now.”
Double shit!
